


save that heart for me (you're my destiny)

by loonyBibliophile



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Buggie Break, Camp Bughead, Camp Bughead Day 1: Camping, Demiromantic Jughead Jones, Demisexual Jughead Jones, F/M, Fluff, Pining!Betty Cooper, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, w a side of three way soulmates cher/v/toni
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 20:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15127553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: But Betty’s mark is small, black and white on her wrist, just over the thin skin where her pulse thrums. It looks like an old, circular typewriter key, and the letter in the middle is a lowercase ‘j’. She isn’t actually sure how she feels about soulmates, but she’s pretty fond of the mark. She imagines it probably belongs to someone bookish, someone who will understand her.Actually, she knows exactly who she thinks it belongs to, but it doesn’t matter.(Bughead Soulmate AU with a twist)





	save that heart for me (you're my destiny)

Betty Cooper’s soulmark is small and unassuming. Some of her friends have giant colorful marks that cover whole parts of their bodies. Veronica, for example, has a cherry tree with a snake wound around the trunk. It takes up most of her left shoulder, and it’s absolutely beautiful. And while Toni and Cheryl, Veronica’s soulmates, both have big marks too, it’s not just because there are three of them. Valerie and Josie have larger marks too, beautiful jungle cats poised between their shoulder blades, and when they stand just right, they almost look like the tails intertwine. 

But Betty’s mark is small, black and white on her wrist, just over the thin skin where her pulse thrums. It looks like an old, circular typewriter key, and the letter in the middle is a lowercase ‘j’. She isn’t actually sure how she feels about soulmates, but she’s pretty fond of the mark. She imagines it probably belongs to someone bookish, someone who will understand her. 

Actually, she knows exactly who she thinks it belongs to, but it doesn’t matter. 

“You could use one of those sites, you know.” Veronica says one day. She and Betty are in Veronica’s room. Betty is tracing her soulmark idly while Veronica paints her toes Barbie pink, to match her sandals. 

“It wouldn’t matter.” Betty answers, shrugging. She stops tracing the mark, and shifts her eyes to her feet, watching Veronica drag the brush over her toes. 

“Why are you so cryptic about that thing, anyway?” Veronica puts the pink brush back in the bottle, and turns around to contemplate embellishments. 

“Maybe I don’t want to find my soulmate. You’re ecstatically happy, V, and I’m so glad. Toni and Cheryl are so good for you, and you guys all love each other so much, and that’s amazing. But I like my life. I don’t need to change it for some mystery stranger.” 

“Even if that mystery stranger is your _destiny_ , B?” Veronica stresses. 

“I can make my own destiny, thanks.” Betty says, leaning back on her palms. Veronica rolls her eyes. 

“Thank you, captain cliche.” Veronica holds up two little containers of nail gems, shaking them in Betty’s face. “Gold will look amazing with the pink, do you want stars or crowns?”

“Crowns.” Betty answers easily, without thinking. Veronica raises an eyebrow, but stays silent. She knows Betty will only take so much prying in one session. 

There’s a very simple reason Betty doesn’t want to go wandering off, looking for her soulmate. She’s already in love, and has been for years. She was a sophomore when she figured it out, and now they were nearly to the end of their last summer before college. That’s why Veronica is painting their toes; they have a pool party to attend at Thornhill, the extensive mansion home of Cheryl Blossom, one of V’s soulmates. 

Privately, Betty thought it was kind of weird so many of her friends knew their soulmates already, since they were so young. But that was just kind of what happened with small towns like Riverdale, and it’s not like Betty could talk. 

On the other side of Riverdale, Jughead Jones reluctantly sits in Archie Andrews’ bedroom, getting ready for the same pool party. 

“Do we really have to go to this?” Jughead asks, pulling a face while he waits for Archie to stop fussing with his hair in the mirror. 

“Yes, we do! Cheryl’s parties are huge, maybe my match will be there!” 

Jughead rolls his eyes. His two best friends could not have more different attitudes about soulmates if they tried. Archie has been obsessed with finding his match ever since Jughead has known him. Which is astonishing, because they met in pre-school. Betty Cooper, on the other hand, has never really shown much interest in knowing who her mark belongs to. She’d had a curious phase, back when they were all in middle school, but high school and her own parents’ tumultuous marriage had put an end to that. This, among other things, is why Jughead often preferred to spend time around Betty over Archie. Because Jughead doesn’t have a soulmate. 

It doesn’t bother him, because he’s pretty sure he knows why. He just doesn’t love people that way. It’s not how he’s wired. He’s never had a crush, he’s never cursed the fact that his body was blank of imagery because he just really, really wanted to kiss someone. 

Or, well, it didn’t use to bother him. It does, sometimes, now, kind of. It’s complicated. He doesn’t like to talk about it, and he certainly doesn’t want to talk about it to Archie of all people, and that’s where this conversation is going to go if it continues. 

“Fine, whatever. At least Betty will be there. Maybe she’ll have finished that Mary Oliver anthology I lent her and we can talk about that.” 

“You know, someday Betty is going to meet her soulmate and she’s going to like, get married, and you two won’t be able to keep doing this weird non-romantic couple thing anymore.” Archie offers, finally tugging on his shirt, covering up the broad pair of antlers that adorn his well-muscled chest. Jughead is actually pretty sure he knows who Archie’s soulmate is, but he knows his friend won’t listen if he tells him. 

“I think the ‘non romantic couple’ concept you’re trying to explain is just friendship, Archibald.” Jughead says sarcastically.

“You and I are friends, Jug. You and me aren’t anything like you and Betty.” 

“Whatever, Arch, let’s just go, I don’t want to talk about this. Again.” 

He throws a beach towel at Archie’s head and walks down the stairs to wait by the truck. 

When Jughead walks up the pool at Cheryl’s house, Betty’s stomach does a somersault. He’s wearing dark board shorts and a white tank top, and his curly, thick hair is free from its usual confines of the crown beanie. He had always been cute, even kind of pretty, with his icy eyes and long lashes and olive complexion, but the past two years he’s only gotten hotter and hotter. He glances at the pool and around at the chairs and gathered people, and she knows he’s looking for her, and her heart races against her better judgement. 

“Juggie!” she calls out, jogging over. She grins and throws her arms around him in a hug, knowing he’ll groan and bellyache about her getting him wet, but he won’t really mean it. He squeezes her, lifting her off the ground a little, and her stomach swoops again. 

“Ugh, you’re all wet. Gross.” he wrinkles his nose, smirking, and Betty sticks out her tongue at him. 

“How are you, Jug?” she asks, wrapping her arms around his elbow. 

“Better, now that you’re here, and I’m not just stuck in Archie’s room listening to him complain about being single.” Jughead rolls his eyes, and Betty giggles. “How are you, Betts?”

“Oh, about the same.” she answers, voice playful. “Except V wasn’t complaining about being single, she was grilling me about it, as per usual.” It’s Betty’s turn to roll her eyes, and conveniently it gives her a reason to look away while Jughead takes off the tank top, so he doesn’t see her face heat up. Jughead can never know how she feels about him. He doesn’t have a soulmate, he doesn’t want one, he doesn’t date. Betty’s pretty sure it would weird him out, or at least make him feel really bad for her. 

“She better not be complaining about being single. If she ever broke up with Toni, she’d have to deal with both me and Cheryl.” Jughead laughs, and lets Betty lead him to the steps of the pool, sinking into the cool blue water beside her. 

“A true nightmare scenario.” Betty says wisely, nodding. The sunlight and the blue of the water make Jughead’s eyes look even bluer than normal, and the way his dark hair hangs over them makes Betty swoon. “But no, it was the usual. ‘B, why won’t you look for them?’ ‘B, why don’t you join a soulmate search site?’. I know she and the girls are happy together, and I love that. But just because she’s happy with her situation doesn’t mean I’m not okay being single.” 

Betty kicks her feet back and forth in the water, and the two are silent for a time. It’s one of the things she likes most about Jughead. It’s like that line from Pulp Fiction. “That’s when you know you’ve found somebody really special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence.” Betty doesn’t actually share Jughead’s love of Tarantino, she thinks he’s kind of an asshole, but she has to admit that quote knows what it’s talking about. 

“You know, you don’t have to tell me, but I am genuinely curious. Why aren’t you looking for your soulmate? Did you just stop believing?” Jughead asks, and his voice is genuine as he looks over at her. Betty sighs and leans back. 

“It’s complicated, kind of. But what it boils down to is that I like my life. I like where it’s going, and the people I’m spending it with. Why risk all that on some random stranger? Why risk all that at all?” Betty frowns, biting her lip as she tries to talk around the real issue. 

“Most people would say ‘for love, of course’ here, I think.” Jughead says, one half wry and one half something that sounds a little like sad. Betty just sighs again. 

“But I have love. I love V, and Toni and Cher, and I love Archie, Val, Josie. I love my sister, and I love you. These are all people I love and who love me, and I’m more than content to spend my life in nothing but their company.” 

It’s not the whole truth, but it’s close enough. In reality, Betty is somewhere from ‘mostly sure’ to ‘absolutely positive’ that the lowercase typewriter ‘j’ on her wrist is for Jughead. Ever since one night sophomore year, when he found her crying about her parents in a booth at Pop’s long after her curfew, and he’d lent her a jacket and let her cry and complain, dried her tears, and pulled her nails from her palms. In that moment, she knew he was her soulmate. And she also knew Jughead didn’t have a soulmate. For awhile, it made her sad, even bitter. Not at him, but at the concept of fate. Why give her a destiny that didn’t want her? But at some point, Betty made a decision. 

It didn’t matter if Jughead didn’t love her. He was her soulmate, the person she wanted to spend her life with. If that meant she spent her life single, spending her time with her platonic best friend, then that was fine. It was more than fine, really. She loved him and valued his friendship, and more than anything just wanted him to be the most important person in her life. They didn’t have to date for that. And maybe the mark didn’t stand for Jughead, maybe her sister was right and it was for someone else. Polly had always maintained if the mark were for Jughead the letter would be ‘f’, since his real name was Forsythe. But that didn’t matter either. Betty didn’t want to spend her life with some possible mystery J she hadn’t met. She wanted to spend it with her best friend. She wanted to spend it with Jughead. 

“As long as you’re happy, Betts.” Jughead said finally, putting an arm around her waist. Betty smiled. 

“I’m always happy when I’m with you, Jug.” she said easily. 

Jughead doesn’t say anything. He just looks down, contemplating what she said. Under the shimmering water, he sees that Betty’s polished toes have little gold crowns on them. The sight of the little emblem does something to him that he doesn’t have the vocabulary to explain. 

In the distance, Toni, Cheryl, and Veronica are all huddled on one barcalounger, watching Betty and Jughead with interest. 

“Has she admitted it yet?” Toni whispers, leaning forward to wrap her arms around Cheryl, who’s sandwiched between the other two girls. 

“No.” Veronica says, shaking her head. One of her hands is on Cheryl’s waist, and the other is playing with Toni’s damp hair. “I don’t know if she will, either. It is kind of a weird situation. And we don’t know that he’s in denial, or oblivious, or whatever. He could be right, he could be…” Veronica frowned, looking to Toni “What was the word?”

“Aromantic.” Toni supplied as she picked up a strand of Cheryl’s hair to twist around her fingers. 

“I think you should talk to him. Our boy Forsythe may be book smart, and even street smart, but he’s certainly not people smart.” Cheryl added, happily leaning into the affection from both of her girlfriends. 

“Me?” Veronica asked, raising an eyebrow. “Jughead and I aren’t exactly close, Cherry.” 

“Not you, TT.” Cheryl said, rolling her eyes “She’s like the Brain to his Pinkie, or whatever.” 

“Really, Cher?” Toni looks at her girlfriend. “An old nicktoon?”

“Suit the reference to the audience.” Cheryl shrugs, and Veronica snorts. “Show him that article you found, T. It will appeal to his sensibilities.” 

“Is this really the right thing to do? Meddle like this?” Toni frowns, looking over at Betty and Jughead, who have slunk further into the pool and are now splashing water at each other. “I genuinely think they’re happy.”

“I think the world tells us love is a very specific thing. But it’s not always right. And I think we owe it to our friends to sit one of them down and give them a different perspective. Betty did it for us.” Veronica’s voice is soft, and she joins Toni in watching their friends. 

“Okay. I’ll talk to him.” Toni says with a sigh, leaning back further and tugging her girls with her. “Now, enough meddling. Let’s canoodle.” 

As the sun begins to sink beyond the horizon, the party is winding down. Most people have left, and it’s only really the inner circle left. Jughead had gone to lay out on the grass at one point, and Betty had followed him, so now they were sprawled on a towel in the fading sunlight, their skin still warm from the heat of the day. A day in the sun has left Betty pleasantly drowsy, and she rests her head on Jughead’s shoulder. 

“This is what I mean,” she says, her voice soft “why would I need to find some mysterious stranger, just because fate told me to, when I could be laying in the sun with you?” 

Her face turns bright red, and she’s sure she’s said too much. So she just shuts her mouth and looks over at the sunset. Jughead doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t leave, at least. 

That might be what she loves best about him. He’s always there, silent, but steady and warm. 

“Are you still staying with Ron?” he asks later, the sun long set, still sprawled on the same towel. Betty nods, yawning. 

“Yeah. Why?” she turns her face up to look at him, and, as always, she can’t handle the way he looks. Especially in the summer moonlight. His skin looks almost silver, like an old school matinee idol. Like this was the light he was made to be seen in. 

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t staying at home.” Jughead replies, as he stretches and sits up. Betty sits up with him, and smiles brightly. She wraps him in a hug, her arms around his bare waist. He’s warm, and solid, and he smells like sweat and chlorine and sunscreen. 

“Thank you. For always caring about me so much.” 

The gentle smile and soft look in Jughead’s eyes in response to her statement makes Betty’s chest ache. She really is happy to spend the rest of her life as his best friend, but every once in awhile she allows herself to step back and really feel how much she loves him. It’s almost always the little moments, things like this. When he brings her a milkshake from Pop’s when she’s had a bad day, or when they’re sitting on someone’s sofa watching a movie and he nudges her to comment on something, or when he smiled and called her ‘Betts’, or when he read a piece of writing for her and got that look on his face where he just glowed with pride for her. 

He was, without a doubt, the greatest person she had ever known. And she loved him with her whole heart. 

“Cooper!” Toni called from across the lawn. “Ronnie’s staying here tonight, so we’re electing Jones to be your keeper, but I need to talk to him first.” 

“Someone’s in trouble.” Betty said playfully, waggling her eyebrows. Jughead rolled his eyes. 

“How old are we? Five?” he stuck his tongue out, and stood to go talk to Toni. “Fine, but I’m borrowing your bike. Archie ditched me.”

“Shocking.” Toni said, deadpan. 

“There’s a couple of flannels in my bag, I know you won’t get on a bike in short sleeves, and I figured you would get cold at some point tonight.” Jughead smiled down at Betty before stepping away. 

Toni promptly grabbed Jug’s elbow and dragged him off into the hall of the main house. 

“Is everything okay?” Jughead asked, frowning. Toni flopped down on the floor and patted the ground next to her. 

“Everything is fine, Jones. We just need to chat.” 

“Okay. What’s up?” Jughead sat down beside her, sprawling out and raising an eyebrow expectantly. 

“It’s about Betty,” Toni says, and Jughead groans.

“Not you too. I just got this lecture from Archie about how ‘someday Betty’s going to fall in love and stop hanging out with you’, I don’t need it from you, Toni.” 

“No, that’s not what this is. Okay, it kind of is, but not exactly. And for the record? I don’t think Betty wants to find her soulmate. I think Betty decided a long time ago who she wanted to spend her life with, and she’s too stubborn to let the abstract concept of fate take that from her.” 

“What?” Jughead shook his head, clearly confused. Toni sighed. 

“Do you know anything about the asexuality and aromanticism spectrums?” she’s tapping away at her phone as she speaks, and Jughead shrugs. 

“I’ve heard the words, I guess, but you know I don’t pay attention to that kind of stuff. Why?”

“Ugh. I kind of didn’t want to do this because your thoughts and feelings are totally valid and your own, but Cher and V both feel like we kind of owe it to you and Betty, and they aren’t wrong, but I feel pushy.” Toni makes a face. 

“Just get it the fuck over with, Topaz.” Jughead says. 

“Because of the whole soulmate system, we have this really particular view of what love is, yeah?” Toni asks. Jughead shrugs and nods, so she continues “But that’s not always right. I had two soulmates. Some people fall in love with people who aren’t their soulmates, and sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes soulmates don’t work out. Some people never find theirs.” 

“Why, exactly, are you giving me a lecture on soulmate lore?” Jughead raised an eyebrow, looking bored. 

“Because we think you need to sit down and have a long hard look at what you think love is and what you think your relationship with Betty is, or could be, and what you want it to be.” Toni finally says, bluntly. 

Jughead sighed, and shoved his hands into his hair. For several minutes he didn’t say or do anything, just sat there, staring at the tile floor. Then he nodded. 

“Yeah. I know. I just… I don’t know what the difference is, and even if I did, and it was different, it couldn’t matter since I don’t… you know. Have a soulmark.” Jughead actually looks kind of sad as he speaks, and Toni reaches over to put a hand on his shoulder. 

“I appreciate your honesty Jones, but that was cryptic as all hell.” 

“I don’t get what the difference between love and _love_ is. I don’t know how to parse that, and I never have. And even if I did, Betty has a mark. And I don’t.” Jughead shrugs. 

“Jughead, how many times has Cooper told you and anyone who will listen that she doesn’t care about finding her soulmate?” Toni asks, frowning. 

“... Pretty frequently.” Jughead is still looking at the floor. 

“Okay, so that’s a non-issue. Moving on to love. So you don’t know the difference. Think about what you _do_ know. Think about Betty, and how you feel about her, and what you see your lives being like a year from now. Five years, ten years, thirty years from now. What are you doing? Who are you doing it with? Think about what you know about you, and Betty, and whatever the hell is between you. And then read the article I just texted you. But first, take your girl home, Jones.” Toni shoves his shoulder and stands to walk away. 

“She’s not my girl.” Jughead protests as he stands himself. Toni rolls her eyes and then shoots him A Look. 

“You know, for a guy with a full ride to an Ivy, you’re a real dumbass sometimes.” Toni says, before stalking out of the house. Jughead sits silently on the floor for a minute. His phone dings, probably the article Toni wants him to read. With a sigh, Jughead flops onto the tile all the way, laying back. 

“Betty. I wanna talk to you too.” Toni says, striding over to where Betty is still sitting in the grass. “Come on, let’s go get dressed in the cabana and have a chat. That’s where Jughead’s bag is too.” 

Betty nods, and pulls herself to her feet to follow after Toni. She knows where this is going, she’s not an idiot. While her other friends suspect Betty is in love with Jughead, and that she think he’s her soulmate, Toni knows Jughead himself better than Veronica or Cheryl. Really, after Betty herself, Toni probably knew him the best. And Toni knew people. 

“What’s up?” she asks as the enter the cabana. She heads for her own bag first, and just tugs the dress she’d worn over her swimsuit, which is long dry at this point. 

“You’re in love with him, right?” Toni asks, just coming right out with it. Betty sighs as she pulls her sandals on. 

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter, because it doesn’t change anything.” Betty waved one of her hands around, as if shooing the subject away, while she looked for Jughead’s old messenger bag. 

“Why?” Toni sounds genuinely curious. 

“Because I don’t care how I get to have him! As long as we’re in each other’s lives, as long as we’re important to each other, I have everything I could want. I listened to Jug talk for years about how he didn’t care about not having a soulmate because he didn’t understand love, and I can’t blame him. Look at his family. Maybe he’s the J on my wrist, maybe he isn’t. I don’t care. He’s the person I want to spend my life with, in whatever capacity I am allowed to have him.” Betty is whisper shouting, and looks somewhere between angry and on the verge of tears. Toni sighs, and walks over the other girl, wrapping her in a hug. 

“You’ve got to talk to him, babe. I know you don’t wanna scare him. But you have to. He won’t run away. He loves you. I don’t know how, and I don’t think he knows either, but you are his entire fucking world.” Toni squeezes Betty’s shoulders. “He deserves to know. And you deserve to tell him.” Betty nods. Toni presses Jughead’s bag into her hands. “I know it’s scary. I’ve been there. Cher, V, and I all took a huge leap trying to make this work with all of us. I was scared. But sometimes you have to close your eyes and jump. No matter how far you have to fall.” 

Toni squeezed Betty’s shoulder again. Betty doesn’t say anything as she leaves, just lets Jughead’s bag hang from her shoulder. After a few minutes, she digs out the two flannels in it and pulls one on, doing up three of the buttons, and sets off to the main house. When she walks through the door, Jughead is still laying on the floor. She throws his shirt at his face. He groans.

“Come on, weirdo, let’s go home.” she says and drops his bag on his lap as she makes her way to the door. After a moment, she hears him drag himself up, and he catches up quickly, his legs much longer. He throws an arm around her shoulder, and she leans into him easily. This is exactly what she’s afraid of losing, if she tells him. Their easy intimacy, a closeness built on over a decade of friendship. If she tells him she’s in love with him, will he still put his arms around her shoulders? Will he still lend her his jackets? 

What if she tells him she loves him, and it ruins them, breaks something about them, right before they go off to college together? What if she ends up in a big, terrifying new place, and the best friend she’s always had isn’t there for her anymore, because she mucked everything up with her stupid feelings?

The trailer is empty when they get there. It’s usually empty. Jughead hasn’t seen FP in months. He gets the odd text, so he knows his father isn’t dead, but god knows what he’s doing. Jughead got by on odd jobs and help from friends and shifts at Pop’s, sticking what he could in savings for when he got the hell out of Riverdale. He’s glad, in a way, because it meant when Betty showed up on the morning of her 18th birthday with a suitcase and a tear stained face and bloody palms, he could welcome her in. Eventually she’d switched to staying with Veronica most of the time, because there was just more room over there, but she still spent a fair amount of time in the trailer, enough for it to have her belongings scattered throughout it. 

They share the bed when Betty stays over. It just makes the most sense. Betty falls asleep before Jughead, but he remains awake, thinking. Betty has her arm extended, thrown over the pillows, and he can see the mark on her wrist. He brushes a fingertip over it, and Betty pulls closer to him in her sleep. He thinks about what Toni said. 

_Think about what you know_ , he thinks to himself.   
What does he know about Betty, and how he feels about her? 

He knows he can’t picture his life without her. But is that love? He thinks about reading the article, but decides to try something else first. Something almost stupidly obvious. He picks up his phone, careful not to disturb Betty’s sleep, and googles, of all things, “quotes about being in love”.

He scrolls for a while, looking at lists of classic movie quotes, romantic comedy monologues, Shakespeare. But nothing helps. Nothing further elucidates what being in love means, versus just loving someone. He’s ready to give up, when one website mentions a book he and Betty had loved as kids. The Little Prince. Somethings tugs at the back of his mind, like somehow this might be one of the keys to his puzzle, and he starts googling random phrases until he finds what he wants. 

And then Jughead remembers. He remembers being ten years old, and reading The Little Prince with Betty in the old tree house, and the way her eyes had gone all soft when the Prince and the Fox talked about the rose, and the nature of taming things. 

The idea that something is precious, unique, irreplaceable, simply because it was _yours_. “You become responsible forever for what you have tamed.” 

Wasn’t that essentially what had happened? He and Betty had tamed each other. They had built a life full of memories, a life unquestionably shaped by the other’s presence. He wouldn’t be who he was without her. She was part of him. He was part of her. 

Isn’t that what they said soulmates were, at the end of the day? Parts of a whole?

Finally feeling like he’s onto something, Jughead opens up the article Toni texted him. It’s a personal story from a young woman who didn’t have a soulmark until she was nearly 30 years old. It cited other examples, people who developed their soulmarks later in life, after they met someone. After they befriended someone. It goes into details about terminology, words like asexual and aromantic and grey-a spectrums and how these relate to demiromantic soulmarks. So Jughead googles the word demiromantic. Then he googles the word demisexual. 

Then he stares at the mark on Betty’s wrist again, reevaluating his entire worldview.   
He texts Toni. 

Jughead: toni. tell me about cheryl and veronica.  
Toni: its fuckin 2am asshole  
Jughead: please?

For whatever reason, Toni seems to understand what this vague question means, and sends Jughead a veritable novel roughly ten minutes later. 

Toni: with cheryl, i knew i wanted her right away. instant sparks. i know that’s not how things work for you, so i don’t know how useful it is. but it wasn’t all like that, because knowing you want someone isn’t knowing you love them. veronica took more time to know i wanted, at first i thought she was just part of the cheryl deal. but i knew i loved them at the same time. there’s just no one i would rather be around. not my other close friends, not my family, no one. i want to be around them, all the time, forever. if i picture my life fifty years from now, i’m still with them. i don’t have to think about it, it’s just what i see. i want to turn to them when i’m sad. i want to be the one they turn to when they are. i want them to call me at 3am if something’s wrong or they somehow have like, really good news at 3am. i want to tell every single person i meet how amazing they are. like, ‘look at these people. these are my people. how rad is that?’  
Toni: i can’t imagine ever feeling that about anyone but them. it’s a gut feeling. 

Jughead stares at the texts, eyes darting between the dim phone screen, and Betty sleeping beside him. There’s no real question about who he sees himself spending his life with. It’s always been Betty. But they were best friends. That was just how it worked, right? But he didn’t picture himself growing old with Archie, or with Toni, as much as he loved them. 

Jughead: but what if i take a chance and i’m wrong?  
Jughead: i don’t have a mark toni, i can’t ever be sure. you all had your marks, you just had to figure them out. you knew, you know?  
Toni: there’s no such thing as sure, jones. fate is a nudge, not an unstoppable force.   
Jughead: what if i lose her?   
Toni: if there’s anything you can be sure of in this situation, it’s that betty isn’t going anywhere dude.   
Toni: here’s some advice. we have less than a month left of summer. throw some camping shit in the car, and go somewhere. the two of you. get the fuck out of here, and talk. ask her about her mark, and promise no matter what she tells you, nothing will change.   
Jughead: you’re a good friend, t  
Toni: i know. now let me get the fuck to sleep. 

 

Betty wakes up before Jughead the next morning, which isn’t surprising. She’d stirred a few times the night before, and he’d still been awake, tapping away at his phone. Something was obviously bothering him, but Betty knew better than to push. Instead, she let him sleep, and went on a quick walk across town to get breakfast at Pop’s and bring it back. 

When she returns, he’s awake, sitting on the sofa with his nose in a book. He has his beanie on, but she can tell his hair is sleep mussed, and he’s wearing a tank top and flannel pants. They’re blue. They have a matching top, but he never wears it, mostly because Betty stole it. On the small end table, there are two mugs, clearly full of fresh, steaming coffee. Betty smiles. 

“Figured you went to get food.” Jughead said, pointing over at the drinks without looking up from his book. “So I made the coffee.”

“A man after my own heart.” Betty said playfully, and then dropped a Pop’s bag into his lap. He raised an eyebrow at the book. “The Little Prince?”

“I was thinking about it last night. Something Toni said. Do you remember us reading this together as kids?” Jughead moves the bag to the side, and tilts the book towards Betty. She settles into the sofa, scootching over into his side to look at the pages. 

“Of course I do. We took turns reading it out loud in the tree house. It’s still one of my favorite books.” she smiled at him, and pulled a wrapped breakfast sandwich from her own Pop’s bag. 

“Do you want to go on a trip?” Jughead says suddenly, with absolutely no preamble of any kind.

“What?” Betty asks, blinking. 

“You, me, my shitty truck, some camping gear, the beach, cheap food, mix tapes?” Jughead looks up from the book for the first time, and Betty contemplates the look in his eyes. He looks… hopeful. She grins. 

“Jughead Jones, I think that sounds amazing. When do we leave?” 

“Tonight. This afternoon. Now. Let’s just go.” he stares at her, and Betty can’t help but feel like something is different. Some part of their world has shifted on its axis, and it’s terrifying, but she wants to know more at the same time. 

“Why now?” she asks, staring at him. 

“We have less than a month, Betts. Less than a month until everything is different. Let’s do one last stupid teenage thing.” 

They finish eating before they pack, because it’s Jughead, and food is important. While Jughead digs old camping supplies out of the closet and texts Archie to borrow a few things, Betty looks up destinations on her phone and makes a mental shopping list for road snacks. They settle on a spot out past White Plains, and while they wait for Archie to drop some stuff up, Jughead sets to work on his laptop, insisting their roadtrip mix’s curation is of the utmost importance. Betty just laughs, and walks out of the trailer to make sure Jughead’s truck isn’t going to give out the minute they start driving.

Archie pulls up ten minutes later, while Betty has her head under the trunk’s hood, checking the oil. 

“What are you guys doing, exactly?” Archie asks, stepping out of his Dad’s truck and moving to unload a few things from the back. 

“We’re going camping, out past White Plains.” Betty answers, wiping the dipstick off on a dish towel. 

“Why?” Archie gives her a look, and tosses a tent box into the bed of Jughead’s pickup. 

“Because, summer is almost over.” Betty slams the trunk shut. 

“I don’t understand you two at all, do you guys know that?” Archie tilts his head, and drops another box in the bed of the truck. “But I brought you guys some firewood. Why White Plains?”

“We want to go to the beach.” Betty says, shrugging. She walks around the truck in a circle, kicking the tires. But not the beaches we’d always go to. And a real beach, not a lake, or a river.” 

“Well uh, have fun, I guess?” Archie offers Betty a weird half smile, and she bumps his shoulder. 

“You should spend some time with your old football buddies while you still can, Arch.” she says, smiling cryptically. “We’re all leaving soon. I know Moose isn’t usually busy.” 

Archie gives Betty a really and truly baffled look, then heads for his truck and starts to drive away. Jughead emerges from the trailer, having heard everything, and grins, leaning an elbow on Betty’s shoulder. 

“Do you think he’ll ever figure it out?” Jughead asks.

“I honestly, truly, do not know.” Betty says, letting out a laugh. “Mixtape done?”

“Yes, and it’s my magnum opus. I’m no longer going to be an author, I will never create anything as flawless as this mixtape ever again. I’m retiring.” Jughead is grinning still and it’s infectious. Betty loves seeing him look so light and happy. She wants him to look like that every minute of every day, and she wants to be there to see it. 

“Well, then let’s lock up, and hit the road. Obviously, we will be stopping for snacks first.” 

“Obviously.” Jughead echoes. 

Shopping takes longer than it has any right too, because of the ongoing battle between junk food and at least somewhat healthy snacks. In the end, they end up with a bunch of both. Betty doesn’t want them to die of a sodium overdose, and Jughead insists Betty needs to live a little, and he’s not really wrong, so maybe there’s a little more junk than semi-healthy food. But to be fair, there’s more easily accessible road trip food that’s unhealthy. 

“Are you ready?” Jughead asks, as they hover at the exit of the grocery store parking lot. His hand is poised over his phone, ready to hit play on his perfect road trip mix. 

“Is this necessary? The fanfare?” Betty asks, laughing. She has her window rolled down, and her arm is resting just outside the car. Her hair is down, and it actually feels nice for once, drifting around her face in the late summer breeze. 

“Absolutely. Brace yourself.” Jughead grins, and presses play. 

Immediately, the speakers begin blaring “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey as Jughead purposefully squeals the tires pulling out of the lot too fast. Betty laughs hysterically, tilting her head back into the headrest. Jughead watches her from the corner of his eyes while he drives towards the highway, and his chest feels warm. Betty, laughing and smiling in the golden light, mere feet away from him, is definitely a sight he could get used to. That he maybe wants to get used to. She pulls a pair of sunglasses from her bag and slips them on, and she looks like an old school movie star. Her lips are red and her hair is gold and the big, dark, round shades hide her eyes, but he knows they are sparkling emerald in the mid afternoon sun. 

“Some will win, some will lose, some were born to sing the bluesss” Betty croons along with the song. It’s like a scene from the kinds of movies he claims to hate, but he can’t help but join in. 

“Oh the movie never ends, it goes on, and on and on, and onnn” they both sing, laughter in their voices as they drive past the ‘Town with Pep!’ sign and merge on the highway that will lead them away from Rockland County. For now, it will just be for a few days. But soon, it will be forever. 

While they drive, Betty plays navigator and feeds Jughead Red Vines. Within a few miles of the Rockland County line, they have an easy system worked out, where Jughead opens his mouth, and Betty pulls a piece of licorice from the giant tub between her thighs and shoves it in Jughead’s mouth, and he chews on it like an old Hollywood hillbilly on a grass stalk. She takes a picture of him, and he can’t even be irate about it, because the whole thing is really kind of perfect. 

After a bit, they pull over to get lunch at some dive they find off the highway. Betty had wanted to use Yelp and find a place they knew they would like, but Jughead had insisted taking a risk was part of the experience, so Betty had just rolled her eyes and let Jughead pull off at the first truck stop cafe they drove past. Somehow, it’s the best meal they’ve ever had. Maybe it’s just the way Jughead smiles at her and laughs the whole time. 

They’ve been driving for awhile, taking the scenic route to enjoy the trip for as long as possible. Jughead is still at the wheel, at his own insistence, so Betty is still folded up in the passenger's seat, sunglasses on, hand out the window, waving in time to the music. The current song fades out slowly, and the next one begins, and Betty’s chest feels warmer than the sunlight soaking her skin when she recognizes the tune. 

_Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa, but not the way that I do love you_

She’d always loved the Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes song, and she was sure this was why Jughead had thrown it on the mix. What better expression for love, she’d always thought, than home. 

“Home. Let me come home. Home is wherever I’m with you.” she sang quietly, under her breath. She let her eyes close, and just enjoyed the feeling of summer sun on her face, and the breeze, and the music, and Jughead’s steady presence beside her. 

“How would you describe love, Betts?” Jughead asks suddenly. Eyes still closed, Betty shifts her head in his direction, humming thoughtfully. 

“Honestly? This song does a pretty good job. Loving someone is feeling comfortable, feeling at home. Novels and movies always talk about a spark, or fireworks, and I guess maybe that’s true at first, but I think it’s really more like a comfortable smolder. A low fire in a hearth, making you feel sleepy and content. Like no matter where the two of you are, it’s okay, because you’re together. They’re your home.” Betty opens her eyes finally, and flicks them over to look at Jughead. He looks pensively, hands gripping the steering wheel, eyebrows furrowed, a tiny frown on his lips. 

“That sounds nice.” Jughead says finally, as another song starts playing. 

“I think words and feelings like nice and content are overlooked, honestly. Intense, burning happiness is always going to be fleeting, it’s just not sustainable. But contentment? That can last a lifetime. There are always going to be moments of good and moments of bad, but if you find a way to spend the in betweens content, what more could you want, really?” Betty shrugs. 

“That makes sense.” Jughead says thoughtfully. 

“I would be more than content to spend the rest of my life just like this,” Betty says softly, staring out the window and avoiding looking right at Jughead. “You, me, sunlight, and music. I’d be content with just that.” 

“Really?” Jughead asks “Just regular old me? No soulmate?”

“I mean it when I say I don’t need to find my soulmate, Juggie.” Betty says seriously, still looking away. “Besides, I-” she starts, then stops, then shakes her head. 

“No, tell me. It’s okay.” Jughead urges, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. 

“I think I know who it is.” Betty says, her voice almost inaudible over the music and the wind and the rumble of the engine. “I’ve had a hunch for awhile.” 

Jughead blinks, taking in this information. He runs through lists of J names in his head, people they know. First, his brain jumps to Jason Blossom, but Jason has a soulmate, so that doesn’t make any sense. His name can’t make the list because, well, Jughead wasn’t his real name, was it? If it was him, it would be an F, and why would it ever be him, anyway? 

_I would be more than content to spend the rest of my life just like this_

The words Betty had spoken mere minutes ago echo in Jughead’s mind. Was this why Toni told him to ask Betty to tell the whole truth? Is that why Betty’s never shared thoughts on who her mark was for? Because she thinks it’s him?

Does she _want_ it to be him?

It’s Toni he hears in his head this time, mocking him for saying Betty’s not his girl. 

“Betty,” he says carefully, weighing his options “You know that, no matter what, we’re always going to be best friends, right? I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I know.” she answers softly. “Toni told you to talk to me, didn’t she?”

“She said she ‘owed it to us’, after what you did for her, Cheryl, and Ron.” Jughead adds, shrugging. Betty sighs. “Why don’t you want to find your soulmate, Betts? The whole truth, please.” 

“Because, I already found him. I know who I think the mark is for, and even if I was wrong, which I’m not, I wouldn’t care. I know who I love, who I want to spend my life with. And just because his feelings don’t match up with mine, doesn’t mean I can’t do that. I’m very happy to spend every day of my life with my best friend, and nothing more.” Betty doesn’t say it, not outright, and she speaks slowly and quietly. “You’re the person I want to spend my life with, Jug. I don’t care how.” 

He doesn’t say anything right away, but he doesn’t pull the car over and tell her to get out, so Betty lets him stew in silence for a minute. She didn’t set out to tell him everything, not at that exact moment, but once she started, she hadn’t been able to stop. She wraps her arms around her waist, to press her palms flat, so no matter how nervous the waiting makes her, she can’t push her nails into her skin. 

“I don’t know what I think love is,” Jughead says, his voice slow and careful “And I don’t know what exactly I feel about you. But when Toni talked to me last night, she told me to think about what I do know. So while I might not quite understand feelings in general, let alone my own for you, what I do know is that when I picture the future, you’re the person I see with me. Everything I’ve ever heard or read about love, that seems to mean something.” Jughead pulls over to the side of the road, and runs a hand through his hair, knocking his beanie off. “Toni called you ‘my girl’ last night, and when I said that you weren’t, she called me an idiot.”

Betty actually laughs a little, leaning further back into the seat. 

“I’ve always been your girl, Juggie.” she says, placing her wrist in his lap in the still car “Even before I knew it, it’s always been you.” 

Jughead stares down at the symbol on Betty’s wrist. Like when she was asleep in his bed the night before, he reaches out and gently traces the circle shape. Betty shivers. 

“So… you really…?” He can’t bring himself to say it. He looks over at her, his eyes guarded. 

“Promise it won’t change anything.” Betty says, her voice equal parts earnest and desperate. Jughead smiles, eyes softening, and he holds out his hand, pinkie extended, just like when they were kids. 

“I pinkie promise that you won’t lose me, no matter what, Betts.” he says, serious, and Betty wraps his pinkie in hers, then nods. 

“I am in love with you, Jughead Jones. I’ve known since sophomore year, that night you found me crying at Pop’s. No one had ever looked after me like that before, and suddenly I realized you’ve been doing that our whole lives.” Betty shrugged, looking both sad and relieved. 

“I don’t know exactly what you are to me,” Jughead says, once more slow and gentle as he reaches over to put a hand on Betty’s shoulder “But I’m trying to figure it out. And I know whatever it ends up being, you’ll always be the most important person in my life. You’re it for me, Betty. I just don’t know what ‘it’ is yet.” he squeeze her arm, his thumb rubbing against the skin between her shoulder and neck “That’s why when Toni told us to get out, I knew she was right. I need some time, with you, not apart from you, to figure out what my feelings are.”

“But, you don’t-” Betty speaks, frowning, trying to find the balance between realism and hope. 

“Have a soulmark? Feel things like that?” Jughead asks, not moving his hand from her shoulder. Betty nods. “I didn’t think I did. Toni sent me this article, about a woman who developed her soulmark later in life, after she met someone and befriended them. There’s this thing, called being ‘demiromantic’, where you don’t really form romantic bonds unless you already have a deep connection with them. And a lot of the time, people on this spectrum have trouble telling the difference between platonic love and romantic love. I don’t want to make things harder for you. I don’t want to hurt you, ever. But I don’t think I’ll ever know if we don’t talk about it.” 

Betty nods, and offers a gentle smile. She reaches up, and squeezes Jughead’s fingers with her own. A new song fades onto the speakers, and Betty laughs. 

“Hey, it’s our song.” she manages a brighter smile, and Jughead laughs. 

The song that had started playing was Leo Sayer’s “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing”, which Betty had made Jughead dance to at their senior prom. They’d gone together, as friends Betty spent the first half of the night wheedling Jug into dancing, and the 70’s song had finally been what convinced him to come onto the floor with her. She always forgot how strong Jughead was, since he looked so wiry, until he did something crazy. That night, at the end of their dance, he’d picked her up and spun her around, her loose hair and soft pink dress flaring around both of them before he settled her carefully back onto the floor. She’d never felt more like a princess. 

“Wanna finish the drive? Get to the beach before sunset?” Jughead asks, and he smiles at her, all soft and hope and light. 

“Take me away, Jug.” she says, waving out the window and smiling. 

The rest of the ride passes in comfortable silence, with Betty half snoozing in the passenger’s seat. Jughead pulls into their reserved campground, parking the truck between a few trees. The beach wasn’t visible from the site, but he could hear it and smell it, and already he was thinking about setting up camp and then hiking out with Betty to light a fire out on the sand. 

Jughead pictured the scene in his head as he glanced at Betty, stirring from her nap. The setting sun and the fire casting Betty into gold and shining light, the inky blue of the ocean lapping in the background. Betty wrapped in one of his flannel shirts, arms around her knees, leaning close to him and laughing. 

The real thing is even better. He and Betty get camp set up, and decide to hike out to the beach at Jughead’s suggestion. Betty is in jean shorts and an old tank top over her swimsuit, and Jughead just wears board shorts and a t-shirt and, as always, his beanie. He’s carrying the firewood, and Betty has a canvas bag of supplies thrown over her shoulder, including smores ingredients and sweaters for later. 

Betty throws the bag down and runs for the water, letting Jughead deal with the fire. She sheds her shirt and shorts easily, ditches her shows, and runs into the Atlantic. It’s July, so the water isn’t completely freezing, but it’s still the ocean, and it chills her skin. She throws her arms out wide, and lets herself laugh loudly. She turns around, back to the ocean, and looks at Jughead, who’s alternating between watching her, an amused look on his face, and setting up firewood. 

She feels light. She feels like she could fly. Sure, she didn’t know what would happen. She didn’t know how Jughead felt, because he didn’t either, and maybe he wasn’t in love with her. They would be okay, though. He knew how she felt, and he hadn’t run away. She could now be sure that they both knew they were the most important thing in each other’s lives, and regardless of how, they would do this together. 

“Get down here, Juggie. You can play caveman later.” She calls out, cupping her hands around her mouth and then waving them manically. Jughead shucked off his beanie and tank top, and jogged down the sand to greet her. She launched herself at him, much like she had at the pool the day before, and he caught her in his arms, spinning her around. 

“Hey,” she said, grinning, and putting her hands on either side of his face. 

“Hey, Betts.” Jughead grins, sloppy and sideways, and Betty’s heart does a backflip. 

“We’re gonna be okay.” she says, still smiling, but soft and serious. Jughead nods. 

“We’re gonna be more than okay.” he says, grinning again. 

Then he throws her into the surf. 

Betty shrieks, laughing, and pulls herself upright, dripping salt and sand, and chases down Jughead, who’s begun to run down the shoreline. She manages to chase him out into deep enough water and splashes him, soaking his dark hair. They spend who knows how long running and splashing through the surf as the sun sets over the trees in the distance. At one point, Jughead bullrushes Betty and throws her over his shoulder, fireman style. She laughs, slapping at his back as he carries her over the sand. He sets her down by the fire pit her dug earlier, and he sets to work getting a flame going before the last of the day’s sun is gone. 

The fire is roaring, finally, but Betty shivers anyway. It may be summer, but the breeze off the ocean is cold and damp, and Jughead presses his flannel into Betty’s arms. 

“Thanks.” she says, smiling, and tugs it on over her bathing suit. She tugs her knees to her chest, wrapping her legs around her arms, and leans closer to him, trying to steal his warmth. Jughead, for his part, is unwrapping sandwiches and lighting marshmallows on fire. He notices Betty is still shivering, so with a small smile, he pulls something from his bag, mouth full of marshmallow, and then slides his beanie onto Betty’s head. 

There’s a warm feeling in Jughead’s chest he doesn’t know how to quantify when Betty looks up at him. Her hair is messy and wavy, sticking out from under the grey knit crown, and damp where it meets the collar of his old grey flannel, loose and baggy on Betty’s shoulder. The fire is making her skin glow, and her cheeks are scattered with summer freckles. Her lips look soft and pink and–

He wants to kiss her.   
_He wants to kiss her._

But he can’t, he can’t do that to her, because what if he hates it, what if he feels nothing? What if he breaks her heart? 

Her cheeks are freckled and her lips are pink and she’s smiling up at him and she’s wearing his clothes, and suddenly he doesn’t just want to kiss her, he _has_ to. Jughead has to kiss her, because he has to know; this feels like the only way to know. 

“Betty….” he says, his voice low. She looks at him, still smiling. “I need to know. I’m sorry. I need to know.” he says, his voice rough and barely audible. 

“Know what, Jug?” she asks, tilting her head. 

Jughead Jones puts his hands on either side of Betty Cooper’s face and kisses her. She tastes like marshmallows and saltwater and she’s warm and she’s kissing him back. Her hands catch in the fabric of his shirt when he pulls back. 

“Oh.” she says, blinking. 

“Did I ruin everything?” he frowns, worried, but she hasn’t pulled away from him. “I just… It felt like the only way to know.”

“Do you? Know, I mean?” she pulls the sleeves of his flannel over her hands, rubbing the worn fabric against her palms.

“Honestly? I don’t know yet. But I’m getting there. And I’m still in if you’re still in, no matter what.” Jughead extends his pinkie to her, like in the car, like when they were kids. Betty smiles, only looking a little bit sad, and nods. She wraps her pinkie around his and squeezes, and presses a quick, featherlight kiss to his knuckles. 

“No matter what.” she whispers, nodding. “Come on, let’s go back to camp.” 

Even with the slight awkwardness of the kiss between them, they still curl up on the same air mattress, after they’ve made the trek back to camp, and taken turns changing into pajamas. Betty curls onto her side to sleep, like always, and her marked wrist is up by her face, curled into her hair. Jughead watches it, and her, as he fades into sleep, the ocean roaring in the background and the crickets chirping softly over the sound over Betty’s breathing.

In the early hours of the morning, Betty does not wake up when Jughead slips from the tent to use the bathroom and get a drink of water. She does, however, wake up when he comes back, because he is running, grinning like a mad man, and calling her name in a strange whisper shout. She sits up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and sees that the sun has yet to rise outside. She frowns. 

“What?” she whispers at Jughead as he approached. He said nothing, just dropped to his knees in the entrance to the tent. “What?” she asked again, more urgently. 

Jughead didn’t say anything, but he did pull her face to his and kiss her. Last night, the way he’d pressed his lips to hers had been sweet and cautious. This was different. This time he seemed confident. Happy. His hands were warm on her face and neck, and despite the fear still in her chest, she let herself melt into him, pressing against the warmth of his chest. When he pulls away, he doesn’t say anything. He just smiles at her, and then pulls his hand from her hair and holds it, palm out, in front of his face.

On Jughead’s wrist, right over his pulse, there was a shape where before there was empty skin

Small, black and white. Like an old fashioned typewriter key.   
And right in the middle was a lowercase “b”. 

Betty’s eyes fill with tears, and she reaches out to brush her fingertips over the mark. His pulse thrums beneath her touch. She blinks, and Jughead and the mark are still there when she opens her eyes again. 

“Come with me.” Jughead whispered, a smile still stretched across his face. Betty slips her hands into his and follows, still in her pajamas, slipping sandals on her feet as she stumbles after Jughead. He tugs her through the trees and down to the trail they took to the beach the night before, and the sun is just beginning to peek over the ocean when their toes his the sand. 

“Jughead Jones,” she says, still whispering in the quiet of early morning “Did you drag me to the beach to watch the sun rise?”

“I love you, Betty.” he says in lieu of an actual answer “I _love_ you.” 

“I love you too, Jug.”

Jughead lifted Betty up again, like he had the night before in the ocean, like he had at prom. He presses her close to him and spins around, and his eyes look the lightest she has ever seen them. He’s smiling at her, and even though she’s in old pajamas with her hair and teeth unbrushed, Betty has never felt more beautiful. Eventually, Jughead tugs them both down into the sand, and they sit near the edge of the water and watch the sunrise, Betty curled into Jughead’s lap, her head on his chest. Betty laces the fingers of their opposite hands together, pressing their now matching marks together, feeling the steady beat of Jughead’s pulse against her own. The sun pulls slowly above the horizon, and they sit in happy silence while the sky swirls with color, purple, then pink, yellows and oranges, and finally the citrus-tinged blue of early morning. The ghosts of the moon and stars are still visible in the weak morning light. Jughead presses a kiss to the top of Betty’s head, and Betty’s eyes are beginning to drift shut in the warmth of his arms. 

Then Jughead’s stomach growls, and Betty bursts into laughter. 

“Really, Jug?” she looks up at him, still laughing, and rolls her eyes. 

“It’s been an eventful 24 hours!” Jughead says irately, but his eyes are sparkling with mirth. 

“Come on.” Betty tugs at his hand “Let’s go get dressed, I’m sure there’s a 24 hour diner close by.” 

They walk back to the beach, hand in hand, soulmarks brushing against each other as they move. When Betty goes to tug a sweater on over her sundress, Jughead presses his flannel into her hands instead, and offers her the most hopeful, sheepish grin Betty has ever seen. So she puts her arms through the oversized flannel. The worn blue fabric actually looks nice with her pale yellow dress, and Betty takes advantage of the moment, grabbing her phone and tugging Jughead’s face to hers, snapping a quick selfie. They both look completely smitten. She sends it to Toni, Cheryl, and Veronica, and then slides it into the pocket of her skirt. 

“I know they did this because they owed me, but now I kind of feel like I owe them.” Betty says with a chuckle, pulling Jughead’s arm around her as they walk, following a map pulled up on Jughead’s phone to the closest breakfast joint. 

“Just bake them something.” Jughead says. 

“I feel like Cheryl’s going to demand something outlandish, like we name our firstborn after her, or something.” Betty laughs, then her face goes still as she realizes what she said “I was just, I didn’t mean, it’s—”

“Betts,” Jughead stops walking, pulling Betty into his chest for a hug, then framing his face with her hands “You aren’t gonna scare me off. It’s like I said last night. You’re it for me, Betty Cooper. Except now I know what ‘it’ is. You are my soulmate. And someday, if you want, we are gonna be much better parents to our kids than our parents ever were to us.”

Betty’s eyes sparkle with tears, and she presses her face into Jughead’s chest, hugging him tightly. They walk in silence for several minutes. 

“Wait, are you implying Cheryl is a fairytale witch?” Jughead says some minutes later, as they walk down the road. “Because I would believe that.” he’ smirking at her, and like always, Betty’s heart starts doing acrobatics, but it feels even better this time because now she’s allowed to look. Her heart is allowed to do backflips when he smiles at her. Because he’s her soulmate. And she’s his. 

They walk hand in hand the rest of the way to the diner, which is neon lit and empty still when they push open the door. A waitress smiles tiredly and greets them, and they sit on the same side of the booth. It’s exactly the kind of couple thing Jughead would have mocked even a few weeks ago, but right now he can’t fathom not being able to touch every inch of Betty Cooper. They order coffee, and Jughead gets some giant breakfast special thing, and Betty orders pancakes. 

“It’s funny,” she says, chewing a piece of Jughead’s bacon “To be sitting with you in a diner, but not Pop’s. Especially after everything that just happened. It’s like… everything is the same, but it’s also not.” 

“I think we’re going to be having a lot of non-Pop’s diner meals together in the city, Betts.” Jughead says with a smile, kissing Betty’s cheek. His mouth is sticky with syrup, and Betty doesn’t even care. 

“Well, I’ll always miss Pop’s, but at least you’ll be there.” she grins and kisses him, and he tastes like coffee and maple syrup. 

“How come you were always so sure it was me? Not some other person with a J name? After all, my name isn’t actually Jughead.” he asks, playing with a lock of her hair with one hand and shoving hashbrowns in his mouth with the other. 

“Of course your name is Jughead. Why would a soulmark represent you using a name you literally never use, and don’t even like? Jughead is who you are, the fact that you chose the name doesn’t change that. And yours is a B! You know, for Betty. My given name is Elizabeth. But the names we use for each other are what matter most.” She smiles up at him and pats his cheek. “And please, Jones. A typewriter key? Who else would it have been? And I didn’t just think it was you. I wanted it to be you.” her voice is warm, and Jughead grins stupidly and kisses her again. 

“I love you.” he says, and Betty smiles. The words make her feel warm, and safe. They make her feel at home, even in this diner she’s never seen before in the middle of the woods in White Plains, Jughead makes her feel at home. 

“I love you too.” she whispers back, reaching up to cup his face with one hand. She shuts her eyes and presses her face into his neck, feeling the steady warmth of him, and she knows that whatever adulthood or the city or college throws at them, they can handle it. They’ll handle it because they’re together, and she couldn’t imagine doing any of it with anyone else.

**Author's Note:**

> wow!!! this turned into a monster, i don't know what happened. anyway i love soulmate aus and unconventional soulmate aus and demi jughead so. this happened. let me know what y'all think!! <3


End file.
